


Minutes To Hours To Days

by Huggle



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dark, Gen, Hurt Sam Winchester, Sick Sam Winchester, Starvation, Trapped
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-06
Updated: 2016-05-06
Packaged: 2018-06-06 16:52:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6762235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Huggle/pseuds/Huggle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maybe something happened to them, while he was locked up and purging the demon blood from his body.</p>
<p>But it's been hours, and he's starting to worry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Minutes To Hours To Days

**Author's Note:**

> Another dark one here, friends. And no happy ending this time either in case anyone wants to turn around and head back now.

He’s been slipping in and out of consciousness for days. Or it feels like it. Sam can remember some things – the way his heart pounded so loud it was all he could hear. The way his body felt on fire one minute and then drenched in ice the next. And he remembers them coming in to check on him, Dean, and Castiel. He took more comfort from Cas. Dean...Dean couldn’t look at him, but Castiel would sit next to him, and pray in Enochian, and rest his hand on Sam’s head.

It didn’t cure him, but it gave him a temporary respite – like a place to stop and sleep during the longest journey of his life, giving him some strength to keep going, even if it was over ground he’s covered before.

But it’s been hours since he finally got back to normal, or as normal as he’ll ever be. Hours since he staggered to the door, thumped on it and yelled that he was ok. Time to let him out.

No one answered him then, and he’s tried again every few minutes in case maybe they were upstairs, and hadn’t heard him. Maybe they were asleep, maybe they’d been doing research, maybe there was an urgent case.

He can’t imagine any case so urgent that all three of them would have left him alone and locked in. If Bobby had to go as well, Dean would have ordered Castiel to stay behind to protect him, make sure he was okay.

To open the fucking door when he’d got that poison out of his system.

He slumps down against the door, checking his watch. He knows it was the 14th when they put him in here. He remembers it was Valentine’s day. His watch tells them it’s now the 17th, and he knows it’s been around seven hours now since he first tried to raise anybody on the outside.

He’s starting to worry. He’s starting to get a little bit scared.

He doesn’t have his phone or any weapons down here. He remembers Castiel holding him in a bear hug – restraining and supportive – while Dean tore everything out of the panic room to make it as safe for his blood hyped little brother as he could. Because when Sam was like this? He knew he could snap through the leather straps on the bed if he got desperate enough. 

He was just grateful that at some point Castiel had undone them, clearly when he was close enough to better to not be such a risk to himself or them. At least he’s not scared and tied to the bed.

There’s a crate of plastic bottles of water in the corner. Sam opens one and takes a deep swallow. So he won’t have to worry about thirst. But he’s hungry now; hungry for food, honest human food and that would normally be a good sign.

He spends half an hour searching the confines of the little room, but Dean’s moved out all the tinned goods. Sam curses him half heartedly. What did Dean think he was going to do? Go all A-team with a few tins of Spam and baked beans? He does find a box of crackers that his brother missed, and eats a few before deciding maybe he’d better save the rest.

Which is stupid, because there’s no way they’d leave him just locked in here. Trapped, no way out, no supplies – hardly any supplies – and no way to get help.

But when seven hours turns into ten which turns in to twelve – half a day – he starts to wonder if something’s happened to them. While he’s been down here. Bobby’s house has wards up the yazoo, and they had a bona fide angel in the house. But it would have to be something pretty fucking serious to stop his family from letting him out of here.

Maybe they were taken. Maybe they got arrested – although the thought of the FBI trying to put cuffs on Castiel does make him grin. Then he sobers again. Maybe it was some kind of disaster – sickness, maybe. Nuclear war. Zombies. He shakes his head. He’s starting to panic and it’s causing the craziest of ideas. God forbid anything like that had happened – but even if it had it would have taken out Bobby and Dean, but not Castiel. Least ways not the sickness, regardless of what had happened to the angel because of Famine.

He couldn’t think of much that could kill Bobby and Dean and also get rid of Cas. Whatever had happened, Castiel would have torn that door open and got him out. Took him away if there was something that made it dangerous for him to stay.

But the panic room door is only good against demons – and maybe home invasions. Doesn’t stop fall out or germs or asteroid impacts. In short nothing that could have killed Dean or Bobby or even Cas would have spared him because he was down here.

By the end of the first day, he figures they just got sick of him. Decided he was best left down here. Where nobody – not Lucifer, not his demons, nobody – could get at him. Out of sight, out of mind, except they forgot to leave any fucking food. Except a packet of crackers which he’s half finished already.

Abandoned. Maybe it was Dean’s idea. After all, Sam left him. Left him to the mercy of their father, went off to Stanford. And he doesn’t think Castiel would have objected all that much. Because of one of Sam’s super ideas, Castiel ended up on the floor with Alastair astride him and the demon’s big hands locked around his throat. And maybe Castiel doesn’t want to make the same mistake twice – letting him out of the panic room the last time freed Lucifer. Maybe the angel is learning from his mistakes.

But Bobby. He’s sure Bobby would have no reason to leave him down here. Except that pretty much 99% of his problems are Winchester shaped, and being involved with them cost him the use of his legs, and dragged him into this whole thing. 

They’ve probably bricked up the door.

He spends most of day two screaming against the thick iron, pounding on it until his fists hurt, apologising for everything to all of them at first, and then cursing them when they still don’t come.

By midway through day three he’s feeling a little dizzy, so he spends most of that time on the bed.

Day four isn’t much better.

After that he stops counting, because it’s pretty clear that they’re not ever coming back.

Unless...unless he’s not out of the woods yet. Maybe this is all down to delirium. He remembers last time, that he had some pretty wild dreams and some pretty horrific ones. This is topping all of them, but it also means that once he’s better Dean and Cas will let him out. Help him upstairs. Bobby will make him something to eat, and Dean will run a bath and Castiel will carry him upstairs and help him as much as he needs because unlike Dean the angel doesn’t seem bothered by nakedness. At least not theirs, which is maybe just an angel thing or a Cas thing.

Yes, he’s definitely delirious. Which means than any time now, he’ll start to get better, break free of the taint in his blood, and that means the door will open and he can get out.

Any time now.

Any time.


End file.
